15th Christmas
by I. Evelyn
Summary: A short little xmas fic. sigh


Title: 15th Christmas  
Author: Izzy  
Archive: snake charm dot org. If anyone else wants it, just ask. I don't bite.  
Disclaimer: GW is not mine. tear  
Notes: I wrote this in a completely sleep deprived state, I'm sorry if it doesn't make the best of sense at the moment, I have yet to send it off to my beta.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

How many times had Father Maxwell heard these seven words? The sinners and soldiers sat in a cramped wooden booth said these seven words far too many times. People would walk into a confessional and spill their deepest, darkest secrets with the hope that God would forgive them. They would repent and everything would be all right. Still, Father Maxwell was amazed at the amount of people who would come in this time of year and repent for things that happened as long as fifteen years ago. Peace is a fragile thing. Home and family were hard to find these days. Still, without fail Father Maxwell would sit in the dark confessional, listening to the deepest darkest secrets of the person on the other side of a thin wall and assure the person that he or she was forgiven.

One day, an interesting man came. It was Christmas Eve and the children were excited. Father Maxwell loved the smiles on the childrens' faces. It reminded him so much of his childhood and the small amount of hope that he used to have that when Christmas day came, that some miracle would happen. He would wake up, and it would be a brand new day in a new life. Living in the L2 colony cluster was and remains hard for everyone.

Father Maxwell sat at his desk and watched the children from the orphanage play on the broken-down jungle gym that was located in the Church's back yard. There were so many children who were without parents since the fighting started. The empty feeling that was caused by a lack of love is still strong in each child's heart yet the children have found solace in the routine of every day life.

A man walked on the sidewalk and stopped to watch the children play. A small, sad smile crept onto his lips – a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. As the snow fell, Father Maxwell felt a sense of familiarity as he watched the man who watched the children. They had the same smile, which was only a small quirk of the lips. A long time ago, there may have been amusement in the old eyes, but the amusement had eroded with time. Now there was only hope for a better life.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

_Who hasn't?_ "What have you done, my child?"

"I have killed many, father."

"But you repent."

"Yes, I have". _Many times._

"Child, you are forgiven." _God forgives us all._

"Thank you, father."

The words never needed to be spoken, but they were there for the safety of routine. There was always safety in the small doings of every day life. Each sunrise promises something new, but each day is exactly the same and one can lose himself in every day life making it neither escape nor release, just imprisonment. Father Maxwell was trapped in his every day routine.

For a man of just over thirty, Father Maxwell was extremely wise for his age. People in the area remembered when he first opened the orphanage and Church. He could be seen jogging around the neighborhood every morning. He was very young, the adults would comment, maybe he would be able to help the children on the colony. Father Maxwell didn't look more than twenty; he was basically still a child himself. With a little work, and a lot of promises, the children started to come. In the years that passed, children were adopted, found, schooled, and had grown up. Many of the children from the Maxwell Orphanage had gone off to bigger and better places, sending the occasional letter. Father Maxwell never gave up.

"Father, forgive me, for I have sinned." _And sinned and sinned._

"What have you done, my child?"

"I have done so much." _Too much._

"It will be all right, my child. God forgives us all." _We are all children of God._

What people in the area thought was interesting was that Father Maxwell did not make the children learn. People were amazed at how lax the Father was about rules such as school. Children who wanted to learn were taught; children who wanted religion received it. Nothing was ever pushed on the children. This is what caught the attention of one man in particular. He had heard of the infamous Father Maxwell. The dark haired man packed a small bag of clothing – only what he needed – and headed to L2.

The man was surprised what he saw: a tired thirty year old man with a heart for children. Everything Father Maxwell did was for the children of the orphanage. The dark haired man could see that even though there was very little money the children were well cared for. The dark haired man wanted to help.

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

"What have you done, my child?"

"I have killed many men."

"My child, The Lord forgives us all."

"But how can He forgive one who has hurt so many?"

"If you are truly sorry, He will forgive."

"Father, when will the pain stop?"

A small smile – a smile that did not reach wise eyes – formed on Father Maxwell's lips.

"That is how he knows we are sorry. The pain we feel is evidence that we are forgiven."

_The pain that we feel is the only thing that is left, now. There is nothing else to remind us of what has happened, of who we have lost, of what we could have done. We can only hope that some miracle will happen to bring us out of this stage of constant self pity and regret._

Christmas is almost here, Father Maxwell thought. There was nothing he could do; the children would be disappointed, for there was no money this year. Father Maxwell sighed and retired to his office to work. Tomorrow, he would have to wake to the view of sad children who were present less and parentless on Christmas.

The figures saw the Father lay his head down on his desk. This was a man with unwavering faith that his sins would be forgiven. Slowly, the four outside began to go to work. Slowly and quietly, they crept into the building.

Night ended, and the colony was beginning to wake. Father Maxwell groaned as he realized the dilemma that he had to face. Slowly, he moved out of his chair and stretched. He groggily made his way to the main room of the orphanage, fully prepared to explain to twenty three heart broken children why there would be no presents this year. He reached the hallway, and heard something unexpected.

Father Maxwell opened the door at the end of the hallway. The sight that greeted his tired violet eyes was breath taking. In the corner of the room stood a beautiful, decorated Christmas tree. Underneath the tree were mountains of presents, and thirty-some pairs of overjoyed eyes. As tears slid down the young priest's face, four sets of arms greeted him.

"Merry Christmas, Duo," Quatre said as he pulled his friend into a much needed hug.

The day passed quickly with old friends. After fifteen years, it was good to know that he could still believe in miracles.


End file.
